“One moment, Ms Cannon. I'd like to explain a few of my pre-requisites before you go to your quarters.” I turned and waited. It was hard not to keep staring at the floor like a naughty schoolgirl about to be punished. I so, so wanted to look at him and drink in his rugged beauty but didn't dare. He was too imposing and I didn’t trust my face not to betray me by turning seven shades of sunset again.

“I've heard a great deal about you,” he said, once we were alone in the room.

“Really, who from?” I blurted out. In truth, I still couldn't believe I'd scored this incredible job and would be living in this palace for months with a prince among men. What fairy tale had I landed in?

“Around, here and there.” He shrugged. “Are you excited by this job?”

“Oh yes, very much.” I wished he had selected any other word than 'excited', which stimulated a reaction between my naked lips with another leak of juices. “And I'd be glad to hear whatever requirements you have of me before I get started?”

Crap, that sounded way too lewd.

“How very gracious of you,” he said, his eyes searching mine and a luscious grin curling the edges of lips that were pillows for angels.

He was making me jittery nervous and I was blowing it already. This was a billionaire winemaker with estates around the world, not some new homeowner in Schenectady.

“I was intrigued by your unorthodox design- the modernist glass facade you want to attach to the back of my chateau. I love a paradox whether in buildings or character.” He eyed me so intently shivers ran along my arms and down the inside of my thighs.

“I thought the glass wall with turf roof would bring you right into the new millennium,” I said.

“And your concept for the interior held darker elements, while the other candidates all submitted the standard sunshine and pot plant plans.”

“I do try to stay away from the standard.” At the last instant some instinct perverted my lips from saying 'vanilla'. No reason to give my new boss any inkling of my new-found proclivities.

“Hmmm. I will share my requirements with you shortly,” he continued, ravaging me with glittering eyes of deepest twilight. “But first, you must understand that I need a particular type of designer for this project. Do you think you can be that person?”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” I replied. I was sure I could be whatever he wanted in order to make this job a success.

“I had heard that you were very amenable but I have to see it for myself. So before I explain to you the full extent of the contract, I want to see you naked.”

I opened my mouth to speak but shock stopped all words from coming out. I almost laughed except his face was stone serious.

“Your breasts are astounding and I want to see them,” he continued, patient and matter-of-fact. “It's a simple enough command.”

I had the distinct impression that he would have what he wanted with my compliance or otherwise.

“Is this some kind of joke?” I spluttered. “Or a test? Because I don't think it's either funny or politically correct,” continuing prim and proper, while thinking how much I'd love to get naked for this dangerously attractive guy.

His eyes foraging across the landscape of my body were making my pussy quiver and drench. He thought my breasts were amazing- he who could afford any tits in the entire world wanted mine. The prospect of giving them to him produced a thrill that rocked right through me. It would be so exhilarating to beat him at his own game, strip off and shock him with my nakedness under the outfit. He thought he was in control but would discover that he had met an equal in the game. This was the weirdest first day on the job in the history of design consultations.

“It's neither a joke or a test. I simply want you to show me your body so I know whether we'll be able to work effectively together.”

“That's crazy. My body has nothing to do with how we'll work together. I have no intention of showing you my breasts.” I half-spluttered, even as my nipples expanded and sent waves of pleasure through my chest with the exhilarating idea of slipping them out of the fabric encasing them.

“I see. Then you are not the woman I though you were, Ms Cannon.” Jay Valentine entwined his powerful fingers on top of the desk and regarded me closely. He was obviously not a man accustomed to being refused. “You can of course decline the position and you'll be free to go back to New York.”

“We have a signed contract,” I said, the threat suddenly firing my anger. “I'm here to work for you for up to six months or completion.”

Shit- I'd given up my job back home and counted on this contract to make my name. Josh had assured me the Valentine winery was guaranteed to get into all the magazines and as the head designer, my future was secured. I'd imagined starting my own interior design practice – my fantasy even extended to Josh and I going into partnership. These were all my future dreams that hinged on completing this job satisfactorily. A bad word from Jay Valentine in the industry would ruin me permanently.

“I’m aware that we have a contract, however if you refuse to comply with my- requirements- I am quite content to buy you out of it and find a designer who will,” he informed me. “That was a codicil if you read it through thoroughly.”

Excuse me? Waves of fury bustled through me. He was willing to pay me all the money for the next six months to release me from the contract. It was my fault, I'd started that stuff about his requirements. Neither myself nor the lawyer that checked over the work contract had even dreamed it would include this. And he knew it wasn't about the money, I wanted the prestige of this job. And now I was also getting an inkling that I wanted him. Which was crazy because I was supposed to be dating someone back home, but you can’t help the pulsations your body sets up.

He continued to regard me with a stunningly perfect face of stone. And into my lava flow of outrage, merged spasms of tantalizing greed. It wasn't so much showing him my body and feeling his admiration, as much as I craved his power over me. His potency was a force that sizzled electric through the entire cavernous office space, filling the room and overwhelming it- and me. Being ordered to strip and show him my breasts was somehow enthralling.

“I can't,” I whispered. “I have a boyfriend back home.”

“Yes, I know. Josh Perrine, the celebrated architect. I know a great deal about him. Do you think he'd be upset with you if you were to submit to my requirements?”

“He-”

What would he tell me to do right now? Josh required that I was compliant with his demands at all times, without exception. He had told me right from the start that it was the only way our relationship could work. He didn't date women and he certainly didn't allow himself to be tied down to only one. He also had a habit of frequent disappearances to Europe. He never asked me to go along, and was often away for long periods without telling me exactly where or what he was doing. Despite my best subtle efforts I'd never discovered why he set those parameters around his need for love.